


I Leave Without Saying Goodbye

by shadowkingsoffantasy



Series: ÈNOUEMENT [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, Married Couple, Past Lives, how do i tag this??, marmora!keith, mentions of Galran mating bonds, they have a baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-07 13:02:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13435266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowkingsoffantasy/pseuds/shadowkingsoffantasy
Summary: They say that at the moment of death, your entire life flashes before your eyes.Alaren had come to realize that this was true, in a sense. But for him, instead of a single moment, the flashes and flood of memories had come not in the instant of death, but in the hours leading up to it....They loved each other too much to have to say goodbye so soon.





	1. I Can Hear the Sound of Your Barely Beating Heart

**Author's Note:**

> So you can read this and then read the previous one? Or the other way around? 
> 
> Keith-Marmora  
> Lance-Alaren
> 
> And Omfg finding words to write this has become like pulling teeth goddammit!!  
> And also, in this story full galra Keith is like...small in Galra standards but definitely taller than Alaren because HELLO have you seen those guys?!
> 
> And the chapter title is lyrics from Ruelle's 'Find You'
> 
> And also this was meant to be a one shot but then I decided to break it into 2???

**_They say that at the moment of death, your entire life flashes before your eyes._ **

**_._ **

**_._ **

**_._ **

**The edges of his vision start dimming, luring him into blissful unconsciousness. Numbness from the dull pain. Through his increasingly blurry vision, he see’s Marmora’s amber eyes, watching him with so, so much worry. So much hurt he can almost feel it. "Hey," he grabs his mate's wrist in a lose hold. “Hey...”**

.

.

.

_As the second child of the house of Ezvanasi, Alaren didn’t expect much and neither did he want it. He was born into a ‘People’s favorite’ family of nobles, the second oldest of five children. He had loving parents and (mostly) wonderful siblings and lived on a beautiful planet with amazing people whom he loved to chat with when he snuck away from his lessons to go exploring the streets of Lor’el. The capital of the North._

_His family was rich and involved in a lot of social work, but weren’t really important enough to be included in the diplomatic affairs of the Altean royal family._

_And once again; that was fine by Alaren._

_It meant that he was free from too much responsibility (while he still had some) and that he had enough money to live a little more than comfortably (and help others of course,) but he wasn’t drowning in it. He was just important enough to have the girls and boys swoon but insignificant enough that he didn’t have a huge reputation to uphold._

_So all in all, Alaren was happy with his life. It had its ups and downs but what was life without a few thorns in the way? He faced everything that life threw at him, small like losing a game and big like getting admitted to hospital in stride. Refusing to back away. He strived to be someone his younger siblings could look up to and admire, but also talk about their problems with. He carried his own weight and helped carry the weights of others when it was too much for them to bear. He got sad, sometimes. Some days were worse than the others, those were days where he just woke up and everything was just wrong._

_He tried not to let anyone see it though (he hates admitting, even to himself that this is partly because he’s scared of what they’ll think of him.) So he hides. Always smiling, even when he was sad inside- that’s just who he was. Someone who found purpose in helping others, in putting the happiness of other before his own. (Someone who was afraid that if he was anything less, no one would want him.) Someone who wanted what was best for his family. Alaren might not have been the oldest, but they weren’t royalty and therefore that didn’t have to mean anything._

_Nearly done with his senior education, at 100 Alaren had his whole life ahead of him. His whole life to make a place for himself in the universe. He had dreams, like any young adult, dreams of fame and fortune. Of touring the galaxy in a band or becoming one of the best pilots in the quadrant. He could be   a designer or a diplomat or a dancer (in the very least he could manage two of these things considering his long life span.)- but yeah. He had plans._

_That is, until his older sister had to go and fall in love with the crown prince and throw a wrench in the whole thing._

_Ixchel, the iron willed yet delicate beauty and practical face of the Ezvanasi family had caught the prince’s eye at a ball they’d both been attending. The moment Ixchel had walked into the room, with her striking magenta eyes and her silky wave like white hair flowing down her back wearing a beautiful flowing dress of red that made her skin and markings seem to glow, prince Alfor had been done for. Caught hook, line and sinker. His sister had turned the always calm and collected prince of Altea into a stuttering mess when she’d winked at him (no shame that one,) – and it had been downhill from there._

_That fateful meeting had been two years ago. And Alarens family had gone through many changes in those years, both glaringly obvious changes and unnoticeably small ones, but in the end; here they were.  Alaren was dressed in the traditional robes of an Altean torch bearer (a position filled by the brides oldest sibling). His sisters and brothers were there too, all but little Filli and baby Mekila were also partaking in the ceremony as flower boys and girls._

_Honestly, it was a good thing that the Ezvanasi’s thrived on attention, for that day (and for many days that followed) they were amidst the center of it._

_The bonding ceremony took place inside the great hall of the castle of lions, but was being broadcasted for the whole of Altea to bear witness. And after the ceremony was over, the party would move to the city square, where the future king and Queen would greet their people. As would Alaren’s family._

_But that would be later; at that moment Alaren watched as his sister and future brother in law walked up the aisle, hand in hand._

_They ascended the stairs together, signifying how they’d both go through life (from that point onwards) together and as equals. The rest of the wedding traditions (which a lot of normal weddings had abandoned, but which royal weddings had to have) –later, Ixchel and Alfor recited their vows and sealed their fairytale union with kiss. Making his sister the future Queen of Altea, and tying their family to the house of royals for the rest of eternity._

_....._

_It was disorienting at first._

_Honestly, the Ezvanasi’s had thought they’d be prepared for the publicity their family would gain with Ixchels marriage, after all, in the one and a half years that Ixchel and Alfor had been courting openly, they’d grudgingly grown used to reports hanging around their household once or twice every week. They’d grown used to scandals erupting from even the smallest things, they’d adapted to it, for Ixchels sake._

_The Ezvanasi’s were a tightly knit family and they could see how much Alfor meant to their oldest, and thus they’d tried to adapt. They had thought they’d found their footing._

_But oh had they been wrong._

_Their lives were once again turned upside down after the wedding, because now, their daughter wasn’t just a girlfriend. Now she was the Queen. And by succession, they were a part of the royal family, if only through marriage. Honestly, it wouldn’t have been so dramatic if Ixchel had married into a high ranking noble family, but nooooo. She had to go get hitched to the goddamn king._

_Alaren had always felt overshadowed by his siter. He didn’t mean for it to happen, he didn’t want to feel that way. But sometimes he just did. He wanted to be as good as her. (Better than her even.) He wanted people to see him as his own person, he dreamed of having a career or doing something great that would make him ‘Alaren’ and not ‘Ixchels brother Alaren’. But how could he now that his sister was the quiznacking queen?_

_Many of Alarens plans for the future had been interrupted by this particular turn of events, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at his sister. He didn’t hate her or resent her (no matter how much that ugly part of him wanted to) he didn’t. Because he understood; he understood wanting to fall in love and have someone look at you like Alfor looked at her. Alfor was a nice guy, pretty down to Altea for a royal. He was gentle and sweet and the water to Ixchels fire. And pretty, Alaren could under no circumstance forget pretty (*cough* damn fine*cough cough*). In short, he made his sister happy, and thus Alaren was happy for them despite his inner turmoil._

_….._

_Being a duke was quizacking exhausting. As near direct tickets into the royal family, Alaren (and all his siblings), found themselves the targets of many other nobles. Alaren had never had this much attention directed at him his whole life. Yet while he was now seemingly always surrounded by people, he’d never felt so alone._

_Their family was no longer just important enough to make the girls and boys swoon but insignificant enough to not have a reputation to uphold. No. Now they were royalty, immediate family to the quizacking queen. And with it came a whole new set of responsibilities’, a whole new set of restrictions and expectations to uphold._

_This new life which he’d been dragged into was nearly chaotic._

_But Alteans had a built a name for themselves as one of the most trustworthy races of the universe. They’re planet flourished in the era of peace and equality that had started millennia ago. It’s chameleon like people were famed for their ability to not only physically blend into any culture but socially adapt as well, making them some of the best diplomats and ambassadors in the galaxies._

_And Alaren was a true Altean so he’d damn well adapt to this too._

……..

 

**They say that at the moment of death, your entire life flashes before your eyes.**

**Alaren had come to realize that this was true, in a sense. But for him, instead of a single moment, the flashes and flood of memories had come not in the instant of death, but in the hours leading up to it.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

The warm rays of sunshine filtered through the large windows as he and Allura strolled through the hallways of the palace. Allura skipped in step with him, chattering away and pointing at the gardens outside. Happy and content in the middle of what was slowly becoming a galactic war. Seemingly oblivious in a way that only a child could be. Alaren knew of course that Allura wasn't all innocence.

 

Honestly, sometimes she didn’t seem like a child at all. Sometimes, she’d space out with such a sad expression on her little face, staring at one spot till someone brought her out of it. It had to happen a few times before Alaren saw that the places she stared at were spots in which her and her mother used to spend a lot of time together. So though Allura could occasionally revert back to this bubble of happiness…she could be as aware as anyone about what was happening.

 

She was the heiress to the throne of Altea and like all other royals; she was exposed to the harsh truth of reality in small doses much earlier than an average child. But she was still a child, she'd already gone through the pain of losing a mother and Alfor tried to keep her in the dark about the true direness of the situation for as long as he could, he knew that that was what Ixchel would have wanted.

 

…..

 

_Alaren swallowed heavily as he stared at the holopad. It was at the top of the box in the things Ixchel had bestowed upon him in her will._

_He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and resisting the tug of that memory. He doesn’t want to give into the feeling, the utter pain he’d felt when he’d heard his sister was dead. There’d be no more fights, no more pranks (though they hadn’t had much time for that in years.) No more late nights pouring over letters and maps. There’d be no more talks, watching the stars from the observatory. There’d be no more chances to tell he loved her._

_The part of Alaren that had been jealous of his sister had vanished and in its place grew a shrill voice, a monster with claws that stabbed at his skin saying how he should never have felt that way about her. Hating himself for never-_

_He activates the holopad, Ixchels face immediately appearing on the screen._

_ “Hey loser,” _ _The grinning image of his sister says. Her hair is in an intricate bun and the jewel of her circlet glitters as the light from her window falls onto it.  Her grin soon fades though, replaced by a more somber expression. “If you’re watching this it means I’m dead.” Good old Ixchel, always so blunt. “..There’s honestly…a lot to say but at the same time nothing? Because you know, I feel...That we’re close.  I know you love me and I hope to voltron you know I love you. And…I know you, so I know that there’s some part of you that’s just…being…” she goes silent for a moment. “I know that sometimes you feel jealous of me,” Alaren sobs. “And I know that sometimes, when we were children you’d come really close to hating me because of that, because of your insecurities. But my baby brother, I want you to know that I get it. I understand that you didn’t really hate me, and I understand what you go through… And I- and everyone really, are so so proud of you. I was proud of you from the moment I saw you. And even though we fought, and have said some really bitchy things to each other…I love you. And I know you love me okay? _

__

_ So, if I’m dead, don’t mope about me not knowing how much you cared about me because I know Alaren. I know. _

__

_ But I need you to do something for me now. I need you to promise me that you’ll take care of Allura. Alfor will do his best, he’s an amazing father but he’s a king too.... just help him out ok? Help make sure my baby gets the love she deserves. Take care of yourself, Take care of our family Alaren, I know you can do it, because you’ve already been doing it for a long time.”  _

__

_She smiles, her expression fond and far away, like she’s remembering something that makes warmth spread through her chest._

_ “I love you little baby brother….” _

__

_The screen goes black and Alaren cries._

…..

 

He's brought out of his thoughts when the ground shakes, making Allura yelp as she trips.

 

"Allura!" Alaren cries, his voice filled with concern as he hurries to help her up before giving her a quick one over to make sure she hadn't hurt herself.

 

The ground shook again.

 

"Unel Alaren! Wha...what’s happening?" Allura asks her voice filled with fear. 'I don't know,' he's about to say, but then he glances out the window and the words die in his throat as his blood turns to ice.  Alaren has always loved the sky, whether it be night or day. It was always beautiful, always vibrant. But now the sky was darkened by an entire quiznacking FLEET or Galra cruisers, a looming shadow of doom. Time seemed to slow, and everything was still for what could have been forever or just a second before they started firing. Alaren see's the particle barriers go up, glowing as the lasers and ion beams rain down on it. Honestly the glow would be beautiful if it everything else wasn’t so terrifying.

 

 Zarkon was attacking. HOW had he even KNOWN-?

 

"Allura we have to- ALLURA??!!" He frantically looks around for the twelve year old, only to see his niece running down the hallway. "I'm going to get father!" she yells before disappearing around the corner.

"Quiznack!!" Alaren swears as he takes off after her. He knew that keeping Alfors departure from Altea a secret from Allura would cause more harm than good. He followed her as fast as he could, one hand was over his swollen belly while the other gripped his energy spear, he carried it around everywhere in place of his bayard. A thousand thoughts ran through his head. Was his family alright? Had his parents gotten to safety? Where were Avi and Marmora, he prayed to voltron that they were together, that they would be able to protect each other.

 

He hurried down the halls which he now knew like the back of his hand, though once it had all been so foreign to him. Like a never ending maze.

 

…..

 

_It was hard at first._

_Overwhelming to live in the castle, away from his childhood home. Yeah sure Ixchel was there too, but she was more than busy enough with her tight schedule without having to worry about keeping her brother company. Overwhelming where his classes (etiquette, history, politics and other such subjects and skill sets that a diplomat would require.) Overwhelming were all the parties and balls that were frequently held in the castle,( which he had to attend, both as part of his training and as an obligation as a duke.) Overwhelming were all the people (foreign ambassadors, diplomats, advisors, servants and higher up nobles alike-all who seemed to be from a completely different plane of life from what Alaren was used to). They seemed to be ever present in the castle of lions, and even Alaren, who was a people person for goddess sake, felt like running away to a dark place and never leaving._

_(It seemed like the one thing that was the same as before was that some days were worse than others.)_

_But it’s worth it._

_He becomes a diplomat. (After much hard work and struggling because being an ambassador with his position took a lot more work than the courses he’d looked up on the galnet.)_

_But at 109 years of age, after five years of school and training he’s final got his qualifications and goes on his first mission (yeah okay so it’s merely to observe and he won’t really be doing anything yet, but it’s how it goes.) Alaren had a flighty character, never one to stay in one place for too long, but this was different. This was one of the things that he’d set his heart and mind to, and when he did that…nothing could stop him. So yeah, he knew that politics wasn’t an easy (or fair) game, but he’d learned that it was one he played damn well. And in the years to come he’d prove that, he’d become a head ambassador of Altea at 111. It was hard but it was so, so worth it._

_Because and even though he didn’t know it back, then it would lead him to the best thing he’d ever have._

_……._

 

He made it to the throne room (the logical place to look) just as Allura let out a blood curdling scream.

 

And then he was moving.

 

He moved faster than he ever thought a pregnant man could, within half a tick he was between Allura and Zarkon, his energy spear thrumming to life as he blocks Zarkons attack. Zarkons amber eyes widen for a moment, caught off guard. He pulls away and takes a few steps back, staring at Alaren who motions for Allura to hide.

 

"Alaren...."

 

…..

 

_“Ambassador Ezvanasi,” the crown prince of Daibazaal, General Zarkon Eo’nell said, giving a curt bow. “It’s an honor to finally meet you,” “Believe me general the honor is all mine,” he says with a grin, pointedly ignoring his new rival’s poorly concealed scoff. Zarkon barely bats an eye._

_Hmm. That’s TWO galra who’ve shown zero interest in him. Quiznack! Was he losing his game?_

_“I heard that there was an incident at the space port?” Zarkon asks his voice curious as he looks between Marmora and Alaren. “Idiot nearly got himself killed,” Marmora mutters, but Alaren heard it so he has no doubt that the galra with superior hearing did as well. Alaren waves his hand dismissively. “Details details,” He says as the group begins walking into the building. “It wasn’t really that bad general-“ “You may call me Zarkon,” Alaren smiles brightly. “Then you should call me Alaren,” Zarkon nods perhaps a little blindsided by the alteans perfect smile._

_“Well Zarkon, like I was saying it wasn’t really too bad… soldier boy over there’s just an uptight stick in the mud.” Zarkon glances over at a glowering Marmora, his expression overly amused._

_“Uptight and Stick in the mud are actually never things I thought I’d ever hear near my brother’s name…” He says. Alaren looks surprised for but a second by the revelation before he continues as if he’d known Marmora was royalty all along. “Well I have some high standards, it’s not really surprising Mullet head over there doesn’t measure up,”_

_Marmora tries to conceal a growl. TRIES._

_Zarkon chuckles at his brothers obvious irritation, turning back to face the curiously eccentric Altean._

_“You know Alaren, I think we’ll all get along very well.”_

_……._

"Zarkon." The Altean spat. Zarkon was different, clad in twisted armor, he reeked of quintessence. But not the kind that breathed life, more like the energy had been trapped and tortured, twisted to fit a certain mold. Honerva's work no doubt.

 

The malice in Alarens voice seemed to have broken the former black paladin out of his momentary haze. His eyes, which for a moment had been so open, turned stony once again. He raised his bayard and then he charged.

 

 The fight from then is mostly a blur. Allura screamed several times, scared beyond belief every time Zarkon gets close to hitting her uncle. And Alaren fights, driven by that sound. The sound of a scared little girl, whose mother had been murdered by a man that they had all trusted and loved. The need to protect his sisters daughter, his unborn baby and everyone and everything he loved from this MONSTER gives him strength to keep going. Even as his muscles burn with exhaustion and the bile rises in his throat.

 

But all he could do was defend; in his condition he couldn’t dare risk offence. Quiznack he hated hand to hand.

 

…….

 

_Blue had kicked him out._

_She was firm and left no room for arguments. ‘You will take a temporary break until the child is born and old enough that they do not need your constant presence.-' ("Blue it's a BABY it'll ALEAYS need constant attention," Alaren interrupted grumpily.) "You’re in no condition for battle,’ she’d said.  ‘After you have regained your strength I’ll let you pilot me again. I’ll let your brother Elohir be a substitute for now.’ ’ she’s said. (Alaren has a sneaking suspicion that Marmora put Ixchel, who put red who put blue up to this. But alas he has no proof.)_

_But either way, that’s how he ended up here; in the training room with his brother. Elohir was much like him, he was tall, lanky, had vibrant blue cheek markings and silky white hair. But his eyes were green like their great Relena’s and his hair was short. And apparently his most suitable weapon was a sword._

_Honestly, Elohir wasn’t as born fighter. He was more of an artist, and thus he barely knew how to hold a sword. Alaren had trained with one his whole life, but he preferred long distance weapons like guns and energy bows. But as bpth a brother and the blue paladin, it was his duty to be helping Elohir ease into his new temporary role._

_Of course Marmora was there too._

_(“What are you doing here?” Alaren asks, raising an eyebrow at his husband. The galra shrugs and glances away. “I’m always here.” Alaren crosses his arms and cocks his hip. “Hmm…well scat! Me and Elohir are training,” “Nah I’ll stay, maybe I could help.”_

_“No, I don’t want you to help.”_

_“I’m helping.”)_

_“Now watch closely Elo, me and Marmora are going to give you a demonstration” Marmora snorts. “Not much of a demonstration if I’m going to beat you two seconds in.” Alaren narrows his eyes as he feels a familiar competitiveness surge inside him. “Let’s not forget that LAST time I beat YOU in two seconds flat!” He retorts. Marmora smirks as they start to circle each other._

_“You just got lucky pretty boy,”_

_“You think I’m pretty?” Alaren bats his eye lashes comically, and they both ignore Elohirs gagging in the background._

_“Marmora don’t you dare go easy on me because-“ His husband lunges towards him and Alaren barely has time to move out of the way, then immediately bringing his practice sword up to block Marmora’s vertical cut. He narrows his eyes at the galra. “Let’s go sweetheart,” It’s a flurry of spins and slashes from there, and Alaren can tell that Marmora’s going easy on him. He’s almost annoyed by it, but he knows that he’s just worried about him-_

_“ALAREN!!!” Coran yells frantically as he bursts in through the door. The couple pauses and looks over at the royal advisor. Alaren had known Coran for years, he’d thought him linguistics when he’d been training to be an ambassador. He’d taught him all the tricks of the castle and told him all about the secret passages. He was one of Alfors closest friends, perhaps even more so that Zarkon and thus the man was practically family. But never had Alaren ever seen such an expression on his face._

_It was grief and fear, the skin around his eyes wrinkled as he frowns. Eyes glassy and red, like he’d just managed to stop crying but was far from done. And his eyes, his eyes were angry and betrayed._

_There was a black hole in Alarens stomach, seemingly sucking him further and further into a never ending void of fear and nothing. Something was very, very wrong._

_“Alaren,” Coran repeats, his voice hoarse. “It’s Ixchel.”_

_….._

" Yo...you going to kill me like you killed my sister?!" He manages to hiss as he catches his breath. He was tiered, so _so_ tiered. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be doing this. He had to get out of here, he'd lost track of where Allura was during the fight, all his attention on Zarkon but he hoped beyond hope that she'd gotten away from here. He had to get out of here, the life of his unborn baby depended on it.

 

That question though, 'You going to kill me like you killed my sister?' that's where it went downhill. Because Zarkons answer had Alaren seething, burning in an inferno of rage. Zarkons answer, the tone in which he talked about how he'd killed his fellow paladin....

 

"Ixchel was a necessary death,"

 

Alaren see’s red.

    ……

 

_Alaren loves water. Oceans, rivers, lakes…. Anything really. Honestly it’s no surprise since Alaren himself is much like the fluid liquid. But being able to dive under the surface and be surrounded by fluidity and cool made him feel at peace. It had always been like that, Alaren had always, since he was a child, loved water. And the water seemed to love him back, because he’d never in his life felt like it would harm him, like it would pull him down into its bleary depths and push the air out of his lungs. Alaren had never once in his life come close to drowning._

_But he imagines that this is what it feels like._

_Suffocating, not having any air left, not having any air around you to breath._

_He watches the final feed from the red lions camera again, his mind and body both paralyzed in horror, as he see’s Ixchel turn in her seat only to gasp in pain as Zarkon plunges his bayard into her chest. They’d both been on a mission in the Equinox system, it was a routine thing. Nothing they hadn’t done a hundred times before. Except-_

_Blood drops out of his sisters mouth as she stares wide eyed at someone she looked up to as a leader. A man she calls family. But Zarkons face is expressionless, cold, and he wastes no time in drawing the sword out again, letting Ixchel fall out of her chair and onto the floor of her lion. Knocking her head on the control panel on the way down._

_And then Zarkon leaves, no so much as sparing a glance at the woman lying dead in a pool of her own blood._

_Drowning, choking, he can’t breathe._

_His vision blurs with tears and he feels like he’s falling. The mating bond at the back of his head thrums with grief, anger and worry but he can’t think of it right now._

_There’d been so much red…_

_Marmora’s talking to him, his warm hand is on his back, he’s telling him to breathe and Alaren barely stops himself from snapping at him, tearing himself away from him._

_His sister was dead. His sister had been murdered._

_Alaren had never feared drowning before, but right then he does, he fears it more than anything else. He feels like he’s slipping away from all he knows because this can’t be happening. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. All he see’s is the red water surrounding him, pulling him away, deeper and deeper in. He's drowning. And he’s not even in water._

_………_

“Ixchel was a necessary death,” Zarkon says.

 

Alaren see’s red. And that’s when he does something stupid.

 

Alaren growled as he attacked charging towards his former teammate, a mistake. The biggest mistake of his life. Zarkon parried the blow, then quickly moving his sword to slash at the Altean. Alaren twisted to move out of the way, only to scream in pain as Zarkons bayard cut the flesh of his arm. Alaren staggered back, refusing to let go of his spear even as his instincts cried for him to clutch the wound. He glanced over to assess the damage and immediately looked away. The cut was deep and blue already stained his sleeve, steadily spreading until drops of cerulean dripped down his hands and onto the floor.

 

Alaren grit his teeth and willed himself to stay calm. Panicking wouldn’t help him.

 

"What happened to you Zarkon?" he asks, not only to buy time, not only because his best chance at the moment was to stall until help arrived, until Marmora and or Aviden noticed his panic and pain. But because he still can't believe that this THING is the man he'd looked up to as a leader. The man who'd babysat his son. Who Marmora had called a brother. Who Alfor and he and Ixchel had called a friend. The same man who'd once claimed to love him.....

 

…….

 

_"Where's Marmora?" Zarkon asks._

_Alaren rolls his eyes. "He's out with the guard, they left early for some training thing." he waves his hand noncommittally. "Did you tell him that Avi's missing?" Alaren pauses and slowly turns to look at his brother in law. "No, I didn't. In the beginning I figured there was no use worrying him...Maybe I’ll comm him now."_

_"Would he leave the mission even if you did?" Zarkon asks, and there's something in his voice. Something that makes Alaren do a double take._

_"Of course he would, it's just a training exercise. And even if it was a mission he'd probably leave anyway if Avi was in danger." Zarkon raises an eyebrow before turning away to admire some antique. "Would he?" he asks. Alarens eyes narrow and his brows furrow in confusion. "Of course he would. Why are...why are we even having this conversation?"_

_There’s silence._

_Alaren feels a sinking dread, like he knows what’s going to happen, but needs to hear it anyway. Finally Zarkon turns away from the antique and towards Alaren. In two long strides he stands in front of the Altean, looking down at the long haired man. Gently he takes Alarens hands in his own and Alaren doesn’t question it. They’re paladins, friends, family, he trusts Zarkon with his life._

_“Do you really not know?” The galra asks. Alaren swallows. “Know about what?” He asks, he tries to keep his voice even. Zarkon goes silent again; he and Marmora are very similar in that sense. Both of them need time to think through their words, and find the ones that’ll best convey what they want to say._

_“If I had asked you, before Marmora…would you have said yes?” Alarens eyes widen, and his throat goes dry. At the back of his mind he knew that this was what had been coming. He could play stupid, and pretend he didn’t understand what Zarkon was asking….but he knew that Zarkon wouldn’t fall for those tricks. He pulls away from his brother in law._

_“Zarkon i…I’m married, and I love your brother more than anything…except Aviden. I’m your brothers husband and father to your nephew!” Alarens voice rose at the end of his sentence, shock and irrational guilt subsiding to make way for anger. How dare Zarkon try to ask him if-_

_“I’m not asking you for anything Alaren,” the black paladin says. He glances away, his eyes almost sad. “I just wish to know… had I acted before Marmora…would I have had a chance?” Alaren couldn’t lie, he couldn’t tell Zarkon that he or anyone really, had never had a chance. The minute he’d met Marmora, his sub consciousness had seemed to decide that that particular galra would be it for him._

_“…No…”_

_Zarkon gives him a sad smile. They never spoke of it again._

…..

 

He couldn't understand how he'd turned to this.

 

"I did." Zarkon says his voice is cold but his words are easy. "Then how could you do this? How could you betray us like this? How could you turn your back on your friends, your FAMILY?! If you loved me how could you hurt me like this? By destroying everything I love?!"

 

“I loved you, but you didn't love Me." he says. There's something butter and icy there. But also something sad. Alarens arm is on fire, and his head feels dizzy with blood loss.

"Tha..." he takes a steadying breath.  "If that's your reason, then i guess you didn't really love me" Zarkon looks up at his. "Love...love isn't like that. It's about wanting what's good for the other person, about watching them be happy and being happy for them...even if it's not with you." It was surreal, to be talking about THIS of all things while Zarkons armies laid siege to his home. But it's something he has to say, wants to say.

 

Zarkon looks at him in the eyes, and for a moment his gaze is so sincere. "I did love you Alaren. I watched you and my brother for years and it hurt me, but I was happy for you. Both of you..." Alaren knows in his heart, that he really had been. “But don’t be so naïve as to think that I’d risk the lives of thousands of galra over something as petty as a broken heart, you’re not that special Alaren. No one person is.”

 

He looks away. Before looking back again.

 

“Sometimes I still do..." He mutters before his gaze hardens. "It makes me weak. And that, that is why you have to die.” 

 

He couldn't have moved if he tried. His steps were already off balanced, his energy too spent.

 

The pain was like an explosion.

 

There's the moment when Zarkons bayard pierces his chest, and maybe it's a hallucination but he thinks he can feels exactly how it punctures the flesh clean through. And it’s like everything stops. Like everything’s still. For a moment all he can hear is his own heart beats....

 

……..

 

_Alaren isn’t nervous._

_Pfft. Of course not._

_He stands in front of the three side mirror as his mother; sister and designer flit about around him. Adjusting his robes, making sure his hair is perfectly in place and that his eyeliner hasn’t smudged._

_Today was the day. Today was the day he’d be marrying the love of his life. He’d walk up that aisle with his finace and do the bonding ceremony like Ixchel and Alfor had done, withal of Altea and Daibazaal watching them. Then they’d go through the galran ceremony (which wasn’t really much, just standard vows and signing paper considering the fact that weddings were just a ‘formality’ to them)_

_After the wedding he and Marmora would have their wedding night. (Read; they would sleep, they both knew that all they’d have the energy for was sleep.) And then the next day they’d embark on their honey moon, during which they’d establish a mating bond._

_Pretty straight forward. Pretty simple. There was nothing to worry about._

_Except there was._

_Because **he was getting quiznacking MARRIED?!!?**_

****

_Alaren knows that he loves Marmora. The feeling had crept up on him, encircling his heart and spreading through his being until it was basically a part of him. In fact, Alaren was almost sure that it would be written in his DNA at this point; Ezvanasi  Alaren loves Marmora Norogae. He doesn’t have doubts about this commitment, and he understands that he’d getting into a commitment because Galra and Alteans mate for life. But he wanted that, to have that connection, that reassurance that there’d be someone for him always. No, not just someone but Marmora. He wanted to wake up with the galras arms around him, wanted him to be the last thing he saw before he fell asleep, he wanted to hold hands as they walked down the streets, he wanted to his him, he wanted to make love to him, he wanted a family and a future with him. He KNOWS this._

_So why is he so nervous? Why does he feel like he’s going to throw up his stomach? Why did he feel like his heart would wear itself out at the ripe young age of 119?_

_He’s broken out of his thoughts by a pair of hands resting on his shoulders. He looks up to see his mother smiling down at him. Rosera was a tall woman. Tall and lanky, and probably where Alaren got most of his features from._

_“Nervous?” She asked, her voice teasing. Alaren cracked a smile. “Yeah….” Rosera sighed, pulling a her son into a hug, careful not to mess up his hair. “Don’t worry Sashebee, everyone gets nervous.” Alaren just nods, clutching onto his mothers dress. He feels like a small child again even though he’s only a few vagra away from getting married._

_“ALAREN!!! GET YOUR BEHIND OUT HERE!! IT’LL START SOON!!” Coran yells from outside the dressing room. Alaren swallows as Rosera pulls away, she strokes his hair. Her eyes are watery as she looks down at him. “It feels like just yesterday you were drawing all over the walls with paint, and now you’re getting married.” She sniffs. “My baby’s all grown up,”_

_“I’m still your baby though,” Alaren says, squeezing her hands. She smiles. “Of course you are, children are always babies to their parents….” Though he liked the idea, he’d never understood how that could be so, but he couldn’t wait to find out._

_“ALAREN C-“_

_“WE’RE COMING CORAN!!” Rosera yells back. Alaren giggles, even though he still feels just as nervous. “Ready?” “As I’ll ever be,” Alaren takes a deep breath before stepping out of the dressing room. He and his mother hurry to the entrance of the grand ballroom. Alarens heart beating louder and faster with every step. By the time he’s there it’s almost pounding in his ears, and behind it is white static._

_But then he sees Marmora. He stands with his father, looking just about as tense as Alaren feels. Their eyes lock and it’s like Alarens world just stops. He doesn’t understand why, it just does. He looks gorgeous in dark blue and maroon robes, unruly black hair brushed and the bangs pushed out of his eyes. He just stares at him, the world around his seemingly silent. Marmora stares back and Alaren has never been this aware of his own heart beats. Never been this aware of how the alarmingly fast pace starts to slow as he walks closer to his husband to be. How it turns back into a soothing song when he takes his hand._

_“Hey,” Alaren whispers. “Hey.” Marmora echoes back. “You look beautiful,” His eyes roam Alarens face, his gaze soft and loving and Alaren has never been so sure of anything he’d done in his whole life. “You too…” Marmoras hands are warm and larger than his own but he feels like they fit perfectly, like they were made for each other._

_Coran clears his throat. “Well that’s enough of that; you’ll have plenty of time to stare at each other tonight- and for the rest of your lives! But we must get on with the ceremony!” The couple blushes furiously, before breaking out into soft laughter. “Ready?” Alaren beams up at his best friend/ future husband._

_“Totally, let’s get hitched!”_


	2. Pieces On The Ground From A World That Fell Apart,Just Hold On...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh there's a important note at the end!!
> 
> If you haven't already read the work before this I highly recommend you do. Especially if you're planning on reading the last installment which I'll be posting soon..
> 
> Again; Chapter title is from 'find you' by ruelle.
> 
> ALSO IF THERE'S ANYONE WHO'S WILLING TO BETA THIS SERIES I'D BE REALLY GRATEFUL SO PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!<3

** There's the moment when Zarkons bayard pierces his chest, and maybe it's a hallucination but he thinks he can feels exactly how it punctures the flesh clean through. And it’s like everything stops. Like everything’s still. For a moment all he can hear is his own heart beats.... **

**. **

**. **

**. **

Zarkons blood was purple; it dripped down the side of his face where Alaren had managed to cut him with the tip of his sphere. It reminded him of his honeymoon.

…….

 

_It’s on an island in the middle of a lake of stars that they spent their honeymoon._

_The first night; Alaren has heard and read stories about the first night. (Well, wedding night technically) All of which involved steamy kisses and gentle touches and passionate looks and making love followed by really hot sex. But now, finally alone on the first night of their honey moon they’re doing nothing._

_Both of them were nervous beyond belief. Marmora had been nervous from the tick they’d left Alteas atmosphere, his anxiety steadily increasing the closer they got to Zanthari II and their little island get away. The closer day came to bleeding into night._

_And Alaren? Alaren had been exited at first, he loved Marmora, loved him so, so much and he wanted to show him. He wanted to be with him in every way imaginable. He’s not a virgin, and he’s had his fair share of flings but this was different. This was more important than anyone had ever been. But Marmora had clearly been nervous, stuck in his own head. Alaren had tried to distract him, had talked to him, and in the process he’d worked himself up to the point where his hands shook, and staying in their villa  felt suffocating. When Marmora suggested that they take a walk along the shore he’d jumped at it, itching to get a breath of fresh air. Itching to BREATH._

_The waters of Zanthari II are pure and beautiful, and like a second sky. For when the sun sets and the sky turns a breathtaking indigo, littered with crushed diamonds, the water becomes still. The ocean which during the day had waves, crashing against the shore becomes a still lake, on which the sky is reflected. It’s truly beautiful; it’s like where Alaren and Marmora meet. Alaren who loves the ocean and Marmora who always looked to the stars, together as one but separate as individuals._

_After a vagra or so of walking, their hands brushing together, Alaren finally laces his fingers with his husbands (HUSBANDs!!) Marmora glances over at him, his amber eyes softening at the gentle smile that Alaren gives him. Marmora’s shoulders relax and Alaren does as well. Everything else could wait and they’d just hold hands for now. They’d just be together._

_At one point they sat down on the soft powdery sand to watch the sky, like they did at home out in the junneberry fields. Lying side by side and watching the stars is familiar, giggling and talking in hushed voices about things that don’t really matter is familiar. Shifting closer and closer to each other, arms curling around waists and necks for warmth and comfort is familiar and finally when their lips meet in a sweet kiss Alaren feels like he’s more at home than he’s ever been (even though Altea is light years away.)_

…….

 

Then everything speeds up as the pain explodes. It's like fire licking its way through his veins while he drowns. Another wave of pain as Zarkon takes his sword out. He falls to the floor.

 

In the back of his mind he feels an icy inferno or rage, pain, helplessness, fear...he can hear blue roar.

 

……

 

_The Voltron Lions, named after a star, so bright and placed in space just right, so that it’s light reached most if not all the planets of the Altea Core alliance._

_The giant mecha’s were an accumulation of the most advanced technology and the most powerful and ancient magic in the known universe. Five sentient lions, powered by the very quintessence of creation itself.  Made from parts and materials, magic and spells from all five quadrants of the recorded universe._

_They, it turns out, were one of the main reasons for the Core Alliance. The creation of a force which belonged to not one planet but to everyone. A weapon to protect peace. To protect life. Alone the lions were powerful, a force to be reckoned with, but together they would form Voltron, the greatest weapon for peace and justice throughout the cosmos._

_But the lions needed paladins, paladins to act as a bridge, their connection to life different from theirs. The lions needed paladins, to complete their bond to each other to form Voltron._

_Thousands of worlds sent candidates, their strongest and brightest. Their best fighters and pilots and their greatest minds...._

_Since the lion’s quintessence reached all corners of the universe, it had a sense of all the beings that lived in it. The paladin that they would chose was one whose quintessence matched theirs perfectly._

_You would think that in the universe filled with….and infinite amount of people, there’d definitely be more than one being capable of piloting the lion. And of course there were. But each lion, their life force already woven into the threads reaching the far corners of space, had technically already chosen their paladins. Every being in the universe was unique, there were those who were remarkably similar yes, but no one could ever be the exact same. And so the lion chooses the one who matches them perfectly._

_This fit would change, with each generation of paladins it would change, as not only do people change with every passing second, but the lions do as well. Their paladins would just…change with them (or not.) And years and years later, when the current paladins had passed, the new ones would be chosen, and they’d be ones who were most similar to what the lion’s quintessence was like then…_

_At least, that’s what Alaren had been told. Honestly the lions were all anyone and everyone were talking about. After years of work, the lions had finally been completed and Alfor, the secretariat of the Core Alliance along with other members of the board had had the first reveal a mere three quintents ago and now all anyone could talk about was quiznacking Voltron!_

_And since Alaren was Ixchels brother, and Ixchel was married to Alfor and thus the queen it seemed that everyone he’d ever talked to thought that he’d be privy to more details about the mechs. Have you seen them up close? Have you been inside one? Have they chosen paladins yet? Why black, red, blue, green and yellow? Why not one color? Why isn’t there purple? Do they talk?_

_It was driving the ambassador crazy, and believe it or not there were only so many polite ‘no I don’t knows’ left inside Alaren._

_Even Marmora, oblivious stupid, mullet haired Marmora who let gossip fly right over his pretty little head wanted to know about Voltron._

_“…It’s all anyone talks about! Like, I just got back from Olkari and there’s no more ‘Hello, how are you?’ Now it’s just, ‘Hi, have you heard anything new about Voltron?’ ARRGHHE!” Alaren flops onto his bed, muffling a scream into his soft mattress. He can hear Marmora snorting in amusement at his antics. He fights down a grin that smears across his lips at the sound._

_“I actually wanted to ask you about that too…” Alaren lifts his head to glare at the screen, his hearts doing weird things when he see’s Marmora’s smug smirk on the other end of it. He’s teasing him. Alaren hates him. He really, really, does._

_“But then again,” Marmora continues. “I guess you wouldn’t e able to find anything out.” Alarens eyes narrow and Marmora meets his gaze head on. “Of course I could! If I really wanted to.” Alarens huffs, crossing his arms. “Of course,” Marmora says, in a tone that heavily implies that he does not believe him._

_Alaren and Marmora had a weird dynamic. In the beginning Marmora had tried to remain indifferent to the Altean, and Alaren, being Alaren had taken this as one of the greatest insults imaginable. (How dare the fashionably challenged hot guy ignore him!) After he’d found that he irritated the galra as much as the galra irritated him, he’d taken very opportunity to egg him into some sort of competition (honestly it was a wonder Alfor didn’t revoke him title as an ambassador after a particular fiasco)._

_But later on, they’d settled into a more friendly banter thing. Now, Alaren recognized that the surge of competitiveness that Marmora brought out in him didn’t make him hate the other. In fact he recognized that he really liked it, liked it a lot._

_The Alteans face split into a devious grin, a second before Marmora’s expression grew wary._

_“Prepare to eat your words mullet head!” Alaren hissed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Alaren,” Marmora started, his voice almost panicked. Almost. “Don’t try a-“ “SSSkkkkkk…what’s that? I can’ttkkkkkk oh looks lik….bad connection… ssspp…bye!!” He heard Marmora let out a frustrated growl and a ‘Your connection is fine Alaren!’ before he ended the video call. Marmora knew he was going to do something, obviously as there was no way there was a bad signal in the castle. He was probably worrying his pretty head off (And Alaren knows he worries, even though he denies it.)_

_Pushing thoughts of ~~the most beautiful man he’d ever known~~ the most annoying man he’d ever known out of his head, Alaren left his room. His destination?_

_The Hanger of the Voltron Lions._

_……_

_The closer he gets the stranger he feels. The closer he gets the less he’s consciously walking. He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. In the back of his mind he panics, in the back of his mind he wants to know why he doesn’t seem to be able to help himself any more. But he can’t resist the pull, a strange lullaby, familiar warmth._

_Out of all the lions he ends up in the Blue lion’s hangar. She’s beautiful; she towers over him, like a titan from the old fables. She’s warm, she’s a tugging, a pull in the back of his head. He places his hand on the energy barrier and it breaks away and the next thing he knows the lion is snatching him up._

_The next thing he knows he’s the Blue paladin._

_……_

_Alaren hadn’t really ever felt lost._

_He’d always thought ever since he was a child that there’d be something out there for him. He’d felt it in his bones. He’d always had something he wanted to be, and even though that ambition had changed from time to time, he’d never felt lost for he’d always had somewhere he was going. Going into diplomacy was a more stable road, one where he’d truly felt like he could make a difference and he had. He was a good ambassador, and he’d thought that was his calling. So yeah, he might have changed course a bunch of times, but he’d never been lost._

_But now, connected to Blue, as her paladin, as the first paladin, he realized that while he’d never been lost he’d never been there either. Just somewhere. But now it was like…a piece clicking together. He was a piece of Voltron, the only piece that would fit, and now he’d come there._

_He won’t lie, he felt special. For once, he didn’t feel over shadowed by Ixchel.Ixchel with her unparalled beuty, with her strong fiery spirit and red blood and markings (the rarest blood colour on Altea)…the list on how perfect and amazing his sister was could go on forever. It was a selfish thought, to feel jealous of his sister. But he couldn’t help but feel that no matter what he did, no matter how much he loved and was proud of her, no matter how much he tried he’d never match up to her. Never be as good a person as her. Never be **enough**. Never have his younger siblings look at him the way they looked at her. His family loved him and were proud of him yes; but he never felt like quite enough…._

_But now, he had been chosen by a Lion of Voltron to save the quiznacking universe! And that small ugly part of him, that part he tried so hard to push down was strangely satisfied at having done something Ixchel couldn’t. He hates himself for it._

_….._

_The red lion chooses her paladin a few days later._

_It’s Ixchel._

_The ugly corners of Alaren’s mind makes him hate himself even more, only this time for more than one reason._

_……._

Everything's fuzzy, black, before he's drawn back into stupid consciousness by his stupid (adorable) mate’s voice. Alaren can't really hear what he's saying but he looks so worried. Was something wrong? Something must be wrong to have Marmora look as close to tears as a species that couldn't cry could get. He hates seeing Marmora worried. But Marmora was such a worry wart. (Not really, he only ever worries about big things)

 

……

 

_As was the custom, the newly married couple was completely in the dark about their honeymoon destination, the choice (to Marmora’s utter mortification) was left up to their family to decide.  Marmora was antsy, and Alaren knew him more than well enough to understand his reason. His husband (Voltron, he has a quiznacking husband!)-was used to being in control, he didn’t like not knowing where he was going….but he calmed down considerably after Alaren had dragged him to cuddle in their temporary quarters aboard the private ship (courtesy of Alfor)- while watching a holodrama._

_It was almost surreal to think that after their rocky start they were here.  (But honestly sometimes? In moments like this, when Alaren is snuggled together with the general, the galra’s larger bogy protectively curled around his, Alaren feels like they were somehow inevitable. Like they were written in the stars. Alaren is a firm believer that love is a choice, that all relationships need work and without it they won’t succeed no matter how good two (or more) people are for each other. But at the same time he feels like a sort of destiny, a meant to be was at play. He was meant to meet Marmora and he was meant to fall in love with him. Like it was fate.  Like they’d have ended up here sooner or later._

_Alaren is a firm believer that he controls his own destiny, but he likes the idea that Marmora would have been written into it anyway._

_……._

_They get closer and closer to their destination and Marmora becomes more and more tense._

_He was silent; this in itself wasn’t unusual, he was generally more on the quiet side. Letting Alaren fill the spaces with random stories and chatter. He listened most of the time. Early in their friendship, the Altean had worried that he was boring his new furry friend but had later learned that Marmora just liked…listening. As they grew closer Marmora opened up more, talked more but there were still sometimes where he preferred to just stay quiet while Alaren blabbered on, letting his voice sooth his nerves._

_This was not one of those times._

_This was one of those rare times in which Marmora was silent as Alaren spoke, but wasn’t listening. And his lack of attention had made Alaren go quiet as well._

_……._

_The planet was called Zanthari II. It’s surface was predominantly oceans, oceans of glowing blue water, shallow for miles off the coast and then impossibly deep. The sky was a brilliant lavander marred only by fluffy white clouds (it reminds him of Daibazaals oceans.)The small pockets of sand covered land, islands next to each other and in varying shapes and sizes, were filled with villas and hotels. The biggest island had a market, and that’s where most of the locals lived. While they did inhabit other small islands as well, most of the little land on Zanthari was made for tourists. Alaren had been curious as to how the locals had enough space if tourist took up most of their land and had learned that the ‘local’ population had actually immigrated here from Zanthari I, Zanthari II only orbiting moon._

_Alaren took in the beauty of the planet as their shuttle flew down from the orbiting space port and onto the planet surface. They first docked at the mainland and spent the one vagra it would take for the boat which would take them to their designated private island to get ready wandering around the market place. Alaren took note of the places he’d like to visit later on in their stay. Marmora walked with him as he strolled down the crowded roads, keeping a tight grip on his wandering husband’s hand. Almost as if he was afraid that he’d lose Alaren in the crowd. The thought brought a small smile to Alarens face. But it was short lived, soon drowned out again by the infectious nervousness that Marmora practically radiated._

_It wasn’t until they were on the yatch, sailing the short distance from the mainland to the small island that they were to be staying on did Alaren decide to bite the bullet._

_“Hey,” he murmurs, as his arms encircle Marmora’s waist from behind, he rests his head a little below the galras shoulder blades. Most of the time Alaren pretends to hate the fact that Marmora is so much taller and had a bigger build than him. Sure, Alteans had a surprising amount of strength but the galra had a lot more muscle. Alaren said he hated it. That’s what he says, and he’s going to try his hardest to ensure that he takes his secret to his grave. But he has a sneaking suspicion that it won’t be long before his husband realized the truth; that Alaren finds it quiznacking sexy. “Hmmm” Marmora hums back, still tense.  Alaren slips under Marmoras arms so that he stands between his husband and the ships railing. Alaren is just tall enough to be able to reach up and pet the galras fluffy ears, something which he knows Marmora enjoys though he denies it vehemently. Eventually Marmora relaxes a bit under Alarens ministrations. He places a kiss just where the Galrans heart would be before wrapping his arms around his middle. Marmora hugs back almost instantly, resting his head on the Alteans._

_“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”_

_“Nothing’s wrong.” Marmora starts, but Alaren cuts him off by pulling away to give him an unimpressed look. The general deflates a little before letting out a quiet sigh. “I’m…”’m nervous…i guess…” He admits. Alaren glances away, a light blue dusting his cheeks. “About...tonight?”He asks quietly. Marmora shrugs and that’s as good as yes. Truth be told, as nonchalant as Alaren was, he was nervous too. It’s not like he’d never slept with anyone before…it just, hadn’t been like this. No one had mattered as much to him as Marmora does. And also, after much discussion they’d decided that they’d establish a bond that night. Meaning that Marmora would claim him…Alaren knew that it was a big deal to the galra, a forever kind of connection and that there were no take backs. And while he was sure that he wouldn’t ever want to take it back he couldn’t help but be nervous. But Alaren knew that this was Marmora’s first time, that he had been Marmora’s first kiss, first love and everything else._

_Alaren took a calming breath before speaking. “If you want to wait, for the mating thing I mean or even the sex thing I’m completely fine with it. I’d never push you into something you don’t want. And if you never want to…that’s completely cool too.” His eyes burned with sincerity and affection as he looked at Marmora head on. A small smile tugged at the end on the Galra’s mouth and he cupped Alarens face in his hands, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead._

_“No, I want to. I love you and I want to be with you, to have a mating bond with you….it’s just. You were nervous right? At our wedding?” Alaren nods. “Well, originally my people didn’t really have weddings. If we wanted a family with someone it was usually our mate, so we claim each other. Honestly, marriage is just a formality on Daibazaal, to make it easier for records since making contact with other worlds. Yeah some galra are just as nervous about the wedding as the claiming, but…the claiming for me is like…the wedding for you?”_

_Alarens eyes widen slightly, he’d never thought about it like that._

_“Hmmm,” Alaren brings his hands up, to curl his long fingers around Marmora’s wrists.  He smiles up at his lover. Honestly Alaren wasn’t sure what to tell him, by **voltron** he knows that nothing anyone had said to him on his wedding day had calmed him down. He’d been a hot mess, covering it all up with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Nothing and no one, not even his mama had been able to stop the twisting in his gut and the alarmingly fast rate at which his hearts had been beating. Nothing but Marmora._

_When he’d met him behind the huge double doors that would lead into their wedding hall, it was like everything that had been making him anxious had just disappeared…._

_“I know it must be nerve wracking getting married to the most gorgeous man in the universe-“ Marmora snorts. “- A second time.” “ **Voltron** you’re insufferable” Marmora mutters, rolling his eyes though a small smile tugs at the edge of his mouth.  Alaren smirks before his expression turns sincere._

_Standing on his tip toes he bumps his nose against the Galra’s. “But I promise I’ll be with you through it, and every step of the way afterwards…so we’ll figure it out together yeah?” Marmora closes his eyes and pulls Alaren closer. Later they’d talk about the details like if Alaren truly knew what he was getting into, how it would feel like, what it would involve, how Marmora despite their earlier talks wanted their first time and their claiming to be separate. But that would be later, and this was now._

_“Yeah,”_

 

_…….._

He can finally hear Marmora. He just keeps saying his name. "What?" Alaren wants to whine, but it comes out raspy. And its then that he realizes that his mouth is as dry as a desert. Marmora is looking at him all concerned and furious. What had he done now? Honestly he was sure he hadn’t done anything stupid, Marmora just got mad about anything and everything…he was emo like that…But…Alaren would be lying if he said he didn’t find it infuriatingly endearing.

 

“Hey remember when we first met?”

 

Marmora lets out something between a laugh and a sob.

 

“Of course I do, you annoyed the frell out of me.”

 

Alaren hums, his eyes drifting closed once again. “I thought you were hot.”

 

……

 

_One of his first missions as a head ambassador was leading a diplomatic party to secure new trade agreements with Daibazaal._

_The Galra home world is a lot less…purple that Alaren had imagined. Yes, he’d covered it in his studies, but still, he’d always imagined in some stretch of his wild imagination that Daibazaal would have a similar coloration as its main inhabitants. He realizes that his thoughts may be perceived as racist, just because the Galra were purple didn’t mean that they drowned in the color (but no apparently they can because while everything else on the planet was brown, black, green and red the water was purple)- but yeah, he counts his blessings that the Galra aren’t telepaths._

_……_

_One of the first Galra he meets on this particular mission is Marmora Norogae, and while he’s exceptionally easy on the eyes he grates on Alarens nerves in a way that he would have never thought possible…._

_Now you see, Alaren was pretty. He’d been a cute baby, and a beautiful child with big blue eyes, vibrant markings and pearly white teeth Aand a smile that could blind you with its brightness. (Note that these are others words, not his) So yes, Alaren had been told that he was a beautiful child, and he knows that he had grown up beautiful as well (Not like Ixchel, never like Ixchel)- but pretty in his own right. He’d learned how to grab attention, and he loved it. Thrived in it. A lot of people admired his looks when they first met him, and it was no different on Daibazaal._

_He’d caught officers from their official security detail looking at him out of the corner of their eyes, cheeks splotching purple under their fur when they catch his knowing gaze and realize that they’ve been caught. He gives them all a wink and a ridiculous pick up line because that’s just who he is._

_But._

_There is one, Lieutenant general Norogae, who barely pays him any mind. He doesn’t look at him save to glare at him the second time he throws a line at one of his officers, and the brute outright scowls when he’s the recipient of an aforementioned line. Alaren decides that he doesn’t like him. Not one bit._

_His quiet monologue on how stupid said officer’s hair looks is interrupted when something catches the corner of his eye._

_A transport center is honestly quite a dangerous place, thousands of people of over a dozen species rushing in and out, catching ships to reach their destinations. And no matter how much security they try to add, ports with intergalactic intersections such as Daibazaal are always causing for caution._

_There’s a shady looking guy wearing a hood, slinking closer and closer to two unsuspecting Olkari. The Olkari are posing for a selfie when the man grabs one of their bags and runs, and damn does he run. He’s one of the faster species, judging by the build and flash of skin Alaren had seen when he’d taken off he was probably Sonarian. Didn’t matter either way._

_Alaren was moving and getting onto a speeder in a flash._

_He’s not exactly sure why he did it, security would have probably caught him. But like, do the right thing and all yeah? He smirks as he gets closer to the culprit, revving the speeder to go faster, he reaches out to grab the hood. “Gotcha!” he says triumphantly._

_Then he skids._

_It’s a blur but he’s pretty sure he didn’t scream (he totally did) as the speeder bent more and more to the side as he lost control of it. He managed to jump off, dragging the theif with him just as it crashed out a window._

_Alfor would want to kill him. Ixchel was **going** to kill him._

_But on the bright side, the Olkari girl was happy! She thanked him profusely and asked for a picture before waving and leaving with her friend. And he’d assured the administration that he’d pay for the window (with his own money of course, anything to stop Ixchels wrath) and the bystanders thought it was exiting and he’d caught a their who’d been on securities radar for month so…that’s a win. Everyone was happy right?_

_Wrong._

_Mr. Grumpy tall broody mullet wasn’t. He looked really, really pissed off and his silent seething gave Alaren a strange sense of satisfaction. Was it satisfaction? Whatever it was, why did seeing that expression on Norogae face, seeing that piercing amber gaze directed on him evoke it?_

_Maybe it was a fluke._

_There was only one way to find out, and obviously that was to piss him off again. Which was why Alaren wandered away from their group again and went over to look at some street vendors. There was this guy, sitting against a far wall with a large crowd around him. He was playing some sort of game and Alaren was sure the poor should going against him was going to be conned out of house and home. The dealer was Lithian, a very cunning species. He was the type that brought trouble, perfect._

_He asked to be the next to play just as he spotted Officer Norogae getting closer. As he guessed the galaran quickened his pace when he heard Alaren ask to play. “I think we’re done here,” he says, his large hand encircling Alarens arm and pulling him away. His grip isn’t painful, but its firm, and Marmora gets the vibe that the only reason it’s not bruising is because he doesn’t want an interplanetary incident. He seemed annoyed. Not good enough._

_“Hey! C’mon I totally had that!” Alaren says, putting a whine into his voice._

_“No, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. For all you know he could have asked for a limb.” Norogae retorts, his voice mostly blank but Alaren hears the splatters of annoyance in it. But honeslty, though it had been his plan, he feels kind of offended that the galran thinks he’s an idiot. The Altean scoffed, “Oh please as if I’d fall into something that stupid.”_

_Norogae side eyes him dubiously, like he’s trying to figure out if Alaren is pretending to be serious or if he actually believes what he’s saying. “I’m not so sure, for an ambassador you’re pretty impulsive.”_

_Alaren recognizes that he did this to himself._

_“Why on Altea would you think that?” He asked, his voice laced with innocence. Norogae meets his gaze, the amber eyes narrow in irritation. “You stole a speeder and nearly drove it through a window.” Alaren had lifted his chin up defiantly, blue eyes blazing._

_“I totally had that guy! Besides, what would you have had me do? I saw someone who needed help and I acted on it.”_

_Not the only reason, but he does have to try and save this situation, because his plan of pissing off the officer seems to have lead said officer to believe that he was stupid._

_“Yeah by nearly dying,” Norogae pointed out. Alaren winks, giving him a cheeky grin. “Where’s the fun if that wasn’t involved in the equation?” Marmora stops and stares at him blankly, like he’s looking into his soul and trying to figure him out. It sends a shiver up Alarens spine. He’s thought that getting him angry had been amazing to watch; it had been. He had no words for what this was. No explanation as to why he wanted those eyes staring at him intensely again. Alaren waits for him to say something, meeting his gaze head on._

_“You’re either suicidal or just an idiot.” Is what he says though. The Altean squawks in protest, even as his heart does something weird at having someone finally challenge him._

_“I am not you fashion reject!” Alaren fumes as he climbs into the car. He’s no longer pretending to be mad, he’s actually mad. He thinks he see’s Norogae raise an un-amused eyebrow. It looks hot. That just makes him madder._

_He did this to himself._

_….._

"PAPA!!"

 

……

 

_Alaren can’t breathe._

_It had been a normal sleepy morning, and Alaren had been in a state of not quite asleep but not awake either. His eyes closed and his body relaxed, surrounded by the soft warmth of blankets._

_Then suddenly there’s something pinching his nose and he can’t breathe. His eyes snap open to look into those of his baby. Avidens toothless mouth is open, drool dribbling down the side as he stared curiously at Alaren while his small hand continues to squeeze his nose. Alaren blinks in surprise before he breaks out into a warm smile. Or well, as much as you can smile while your nose is being crushed. He gently pries the baby’s hands away from his face, chuckling at the Childs disappointed expression._

_‘”Awww….” He coos, drawing Avi closer to his chest. Avi happily snuggles in further, laying his head on his father’s shoulder and smearing drool all over it. Alaren grins, not minding in the least, in fact he’s never found drool so cute before. “Good morning my little sashebee,” he whispers, voice rough with sleep. The baby makes a gargling noise and Alaren smiles, stupidly in love. “You’re up pretty early aren’t you?” he continues, keeping his voice quiet so as not to wake his sleeping husband._

_Aviden was an early riser, sometimes he got up even before Marmora. But he wasn’t any trouble, and unless he was really hungry he’d just lay in his spot and chatter to himself or suck on his toes. Waiting for his parents to wake up so he could start pestering them. Honestly it was so adorable that sometimes he and Marmora would wake up and pretend to be asleep just to watch him._

_Usually Alteans had newborn babies sleep in their own cots which were placed in their parents’ rooms. The Galra however had their kits sleep in-between their parents until they were at least a year old. Sometimes longer. Alaren hadn’t been opposed to the idea, not at all, but in the past five months he’d become so accustomed to going to sleep with Aviden between him and Marmora and waking up to the little kit babbling on his own- he couldn’t imagine it any other way._

_“Da….” Avi says, patting Alarens cheeks. “Hmmm? What is it baby? Do you wanna get up?”  Honestly Alaren would like to stay in bed and enjoy a lazy morning, but if Aviden wanted to get up and start the day well then…who was he to deny his little one that?_

_But Avi just shook his head and rolled out of Alarens embrace. He then proceeded to wiggle his way towards Marmora, who was still asleep facing away from them. Once he reached his other father, Avi looked back at Alaren with a hopeful expression._

_“D..D..Dada?!”_

_Alaren bolted upright as a huge smile spreads across his face. He leans over and picks his sashebee up, kissing his forehead before looking at him again. Avi stares back at him, his blue eyes wide and confused. “What did you just say? Can you say that again for papa love?” Alaren asks gently. He knows his cheek markings are glowing with happiness when Alaren starts to touch them. Absorbed with the pretty glow. He chuckles as he starts lightly slapping Alarens cheeks. The Altean winces slightly, once again prying the little hands away from his face._

_He points towards Marmora; still dead to the world._

_Avi follows his finger before looking back at Alaren. “Who’s that sashebee?” Alaren asks, bouncing the child slightly in his arms. Avi just giggles before he starts playing with Alarens hair. Alaren sighs, slightly disappointed but not too much. He’d try to get to say it again later and just enjoy watching him be cute now._

_A little while later Alaren watches Avi play with his soft toy animals, lost in his own little world. He likes to think that Avi’s favorite is the fuzzy replica of Blue, but he knows for a fact that it’s actually the green dinosaur that Zarkon gave him. He’s drawn out of his thoughts by a strong arm wrapping around his waist. He chuckles and Marmora nuzzles his neck, placing a kiss over the mark on his shoulder. “Morning beautiful,” he says fondly, running a hand through his husbands unruly bed head. Marmora grunts, “m’rning,” This little sound however is enough to have Avi looking in their direction. He had excellent hearing._

_“DADA!!” He squeals, clapping his chubby hands together. Marmora hums in acknowledgement before his brain catches up to him and he startles awake. He stares at his kit, who just smiles back before picking up Blue and proceeding to make it dance. Marmora looks back at Alaren._

_“Did he just...was….did he just talk?” Alaren laughs, planting a wet kiss on Marmora’s cheek and giving him a goofy grin. “Yup.” “And his first word was…?” Alaren giggles, before picking Aviden up and handing him to his father. Alarens heart and sould had been so full of love as he watched Marmora cuddle the baby close, holding him like he’s the most precious thing in the universe._

_He remembers thinking that that was it, that there was no way he’d ever feel anymore love than what he’d felt at that moment. He’d thought that had been the maximum. (He’d never been so happy to have been proven wrong.)_

_……_

“PAPA!!”

 

 Suddenly Avidens by his side clutching his hand, tears both dried and new streaking down his little chubby cheeks, making his face seem all sticky. His eyes are red and puffy from crying. Alaren wants nothing more than to cradle the child in his arms and pepper his face with kisses and tickle his sides until he’s laughing. "Papa..." Alaren looks at his son and husband, worried through his hazy state about why they're looking at him like that. Like he's-

 

Quiznack.

 

And then it all comes back, the fight, Allura, Zarkon stabbing him. "Zark-"he tries to ask, but is immediately shushed my Marmora. "Shhhh, don't talk too much.....Avi you should go, papa's going to have to go into surgery soon." Marmora said, looking at his son, his eyes filled with guilt and fear which he valiantly tries to hide.

 

Avi looked at Alaren, eyes blurred with tears as he kisses him on the forehead. "Papa I love you, love you please don't leave me..." Avi sobs. Alaren feels awful, his baby is hurting because of him and there's nothing he can do. "Shhh....don't cry my sashebee," Alaren rasps, running his uninjured hand through his sons hair. "I love you too baby. Be good for your father till I’m back ok?" Avi nods, burying his face in his father’s neck one last time before he tears himself away and runs out the door.

 

"General, we have to act quickly if we're going to save the child...” a doctor says. “Everything’s almost ready..." then she walks away, giving the couple a few more dobashes of privacy. The child. Their unborn baby. A wave of panic washes over Alaren; panic and hut wrenching guilt. How could he have put their baby in danger like this? Logically he knows that his options had been limited if not nonexistent, letting Allura die was like standing by and watching as his own daughter was murdered.

 

His spiraling thoughts must have shown on his face because his mate takes his hand, placing a kiss on his pulse point.

…..

 

_Marmora stares at him, his eyes wide and jaw hanging open. It was honestly a quite comical site but Alaren knows that he’d looked no better when he’d found out. His husband takes heavy steps to close the gap between them, still staring at him like he’d just revealed the secret of the universe. The look made his stomach flip made his hearts race. It was like a different version of that stare he’d given him at the transport center all those years ago._

_He leans into the warm hands that cup his face, never breaking eye contact with the galra. “A…Are you sure?” Alaren snorts and rolls his eyes though the happy smile remains plastered on his face. He brings his own arms to wrap around Marmora’s Waist. “Of course I’m sure you idiot, I went and had Coran do a scan…five times….” He’d been feeling out of it for a week or two, tiered, dizzy, nauseous…moody. So he’d finally gone to Coran for a checkup, because while Coran was qualified to do said checkup it wouldn’t go into any official records. (Because lord knows Marmora would find out if there were records and then he’d be on his case like a hovering mama bear for **cycles.** )_

_He’d never expected to find out he was pregnant._

_The chances of an interspecies couple having children varied, but it wasn’t particularly encouraging for Galra-Altean couples. Add to that the fact that the Galra had been suffering from fertility problems for the past decade or so and their chances hadn’t really looked good. They’d considered it a miraculous gift from the universe itself that Alaren had managed to conceive the first time. And after that though they would have loved another child, they had realistically not kept their hopes up._

_But here they were, standing in the middle of their bedroom, the rays or morning sun filtering in through the sheer white curtains. Marmora leans their foreheads together. “We’re going to have a baby?” His voice is soft and almost reverent, and Alaren loves him like this. He loves that Marmora shows this soft, hopeful side of himself to Alaren. They’d been married for years and known each other for years before that but it will never get old. He leans up and presses his lips on his husbands. One of Marmoras arms curl around his waist while the other hand cups the back of his neck, drawing him closer. Deepening the chaste kiss. Making it slow but sensual with his tongue licking over the roof or Alarens mouth and Alaren pressing himself closer. They finally have to pull away for air, and Alaren lets out a breathless laugh as Marmora picks him up bridal style, spinning him around the room (he full on laughs at that one) before gently placing him on the bed and crawling on top of him._

_Marmora leaves a trail of butterfly kisses all the way from his collarbone, up his neck and over the side of his jaw before placing one on his mate’s nose. Alaren gives him a soft look, his fingers tangling themselves in the galras dark hair. “We’re going to have a baby.” He murmurs before pulling his husband into a kiss._

_………_

 

Marmora strokes Alarens white hair, pressing his lips to the crown of his head. "You'll be fine..."

 

"Sh...shut up babe...we...both know that's a lie." Marmora lets out a choked noise, like he himself has a dagger imbedded inside him.

 

At the back of his mind, he feels blue. He feels her worry, her sadness...he feels Elohir too. 'Take care of him buddy' he thinks. ‘Take care of all of them.’

 

The pain is gone now, or rather, Alaren is numb to it. The drugs are doing their job well, and Alaren is slowly getting sleepier and sleepier. Marmora keeps insisting that he'll be fine, that the doctors will take care of him after they've induced the baby.

 

But Alaren knows, he feels it in his bones, he sees it in the passing staffs’ eyes, he understands what no one dares to tell his husband; He’s going to die.

 

He presses his lips, gently, lovingly against Marmora’s in one final kiss before the doctors’ approach to take him into the theatre. The edges of his vision start dimming, luring him into unconsciousness. "Hey," he grabs his mate's wrist in a lose hold.

 

...He didn’t know what to say, not really. But he knew that it definitely wasn’t goodbye, no, they’d come too far to say goodbye. They loved each other too much to have to say goodbye so soon. Yes, he was going to leave this life, Alaren didn’t have time to panic over that. Didn’t have time to be afraid of death, because he had to make sure that Marmora knew that this wasn’t it. That even though he was leaving, he wasn’t going to say goodbye...because....it wasn’t.

 

But Marmora looking at him with THAT look.

 

Like Alaren is his everything. Like he holds the answers to all the secrets of the universe, like he's his savior, his god and he's the only one there. Only this time, he looks so scared, so sad and so in PAIN. He must be in pain; Alaren realizes, and he must be in denial about why. Alaren was pumped with drugs, but even the drugs couldn’t really completely numb the sensation of the mating bond…breaking. They are everything to each other, so bound together like vines that had curled around one another until you can't tell them apart. He doesn’t want to lose that. He doesn’t want Marmora to lose that. He doesn't want to leave his husband alone. He doesn't want to leave. But he doesn't have a choice....at least their baby will be safe…

 

"Hey," Alaren repeats. "Alteans...Alteans believe in...Rebirth...remember?..." He squeezes his lover’s hand a final time before letting go. It he could he’d hold on longer.

 

"We'll see each other again."

.

.

.

And it may take 10000 years, but they do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: If there's anything else like....Klance moments or something with Avi or the rest of the royal family that you'd like to see go ahead and pitch your ideas 
> 
> THANKYOU SO MUCH ANYONE WHO'D READ/COMMENTED/BOOKMARKED/ OR LEFT KUDOS YOU GIVE ME LIFE!!<3<3<3

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think!! Comments give me life!!


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